


Burning Bright

by Daxolotl



Series: Yearning, Burning [5]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Emotional Healing, Emotional Hurt, F/F, Personal Growth, Red Daughter Kara Danvers, Self-Destruction, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 05:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17339558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxolotl/pseuds/Daxolotl
Summary: Forgiveness feels like it's out of your reach.But you're trying.





	Burning Bright

**Author's Note:**

> __  
> [I will not heal, I'll just pretend](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Y9lNMn1ftU)  
> 

Your savings account gives up before your liver does, in the end.

Between rent, unemployment, and the amount of alcohol you've been drinking over the last few months, you suppose it was an inevitability. You'd just kind of hoped that the alcohol would've killed you before now.

You apply for an assistant's position at Spheerical Industries. Your doctorates still have some weight, after all, even if you can't exactly put your history with the DEO on your résumé.

But when you get there, to the interview, it's not Spheerical employees waiting to question you; it's Lena Luthor.

"Why are you here, Alex?" she asks, with that sickening softness you've heard from everyone else who's seen you in the time since you quit. Pity.

"I need a job, and I like what Spheerical Industries is doing," you say, and you're surprised to find that it's actually mainly the truth. Dropping down to only a handful of glasses of scotch a day seems to bring about a new, more honest you.

"You're a brilliant scientist, and one of the best xeno-bio-engineers on the planet. And here you are, applying for an entry-level position."

"Well, I guess it's better to be overqualified than underqualified."

"No." Lena hums. "No, you can't have this job."

Your mouth falls open.

"Because I'm offering you a job as a senior research and development technician at L-Corp."

"I don't need your charity," you snarl. Your mood whiplashes between anger at her interfering to the job you applied for, to anger at her for offering you this out of sympathy, to anger at yourself, anger, _anger_.

Lena, for her part, seems unimpressed by your outburst and your rage. "Oh, please. You're not a charity case, Doctor Danvers. I'm offering you a position _in the Metropolis branch_ of L-Corp, for one reason and one reason alone."

You wait for her to elaborate, gritting your teeth.

"Because I don't want you within a hundred miles of Kara."

Your mouth falls open.

What.

The.

Fuck.

"Excuse me? How _dare_ you?!"

Your cheeks feel hot, and you lash out, but not from anger any more. Out of a burning shame, deep in your chest. _She knows_ , a voice tells you.

Lena slides a contract across the table. "Take the job, Alex."

You stare at the piece of paper like it personally offended you.

"Get out of Supergirl's city."

 

You take the job.

You fly across the country in a private jet, and drink expensive scotch for the whole trip.

Sam's in charge of the Metropolis branch, and she greets you with more warmness than you deserve after you land, wrapping you in a hug and not commenting on the alcohol on your breath. You're looking forward to seeing Ruby again, at least. You vow to be sober when you see her. You manage it, just about.

And then, the strangest thing happens. 

You dive into your work.

It's refreshing - challenging in a way being the director of the DEO never had been. It pushes you to work harder, be better, try new things.

You drink less, far from the shadow of Supergirl and her doppelganger.

You work more.

And you realise one day, two months after you started working there, that it's been more than a week since you've touched your scotch. You realise you feel better than you have in months.

You're not _happy_. But you're…managing. Your guilt and shame don't gnaw through your body when you're working on asymmetrical epigenetic xenogene splicing. They're more like a burnt tongue – an aching pain, now.

You send a thank-you email to Lena the next day.

She sends you back the address of an AA group.

You tell her to go fuck herself. But even that lacks the venom it would've had, back in National City. You feel better. Healthier.

It's all going so well.

So obviously, you when you unlock your door one night, noting down a passing thought you'd had about a new method to approach one of your experiments on your phone, it takes you a second to notice the fact that your window is open when you left it closed and locked. In retrospect, you'd blame your civilian job. It's making your reflexes sluggish.

But when you look up and see blonde hair and a black uniform, you stop moving.

Your phone clatters to the floor.

"Kara," you gasp out, and it feels like the first breath you've taken in months. A lungful of scorching, burning air for your frozen form.

Your head is pounding. No. No. She's not allowed to be here. It's wrong. You moved away to get away from all of this, she _wanted you gone_ , she's breaking everything.

"Hey Alex."

 

You press your back against the door; scrabble for the handle, but you can't find it. You're too busy staring into her eyes to look.

"Why are you _here_?" you wheeze.

Not-Kara looks worried, taking a half-step forwards before stopping and taking a step back. "I…thought you'd be happy to see me."

You laugh, delirious. _Happy_? She wants you to be _happy_ to see her?

"You abandoned me. For months. For _months_." You take steps forwards, closing in on her. Furious. "You showed up out of nowhere, and you told me all the things I'd never got to hear – everything I needed. And yeah, sure, I was the one who destroyed everything I had with Kara, with the lies and the deceit. That's on _me_. But you made me _care_ about you. You made me love you. And then, the moment my _sister_ found out about us? You left. And now, the moment I start getting my life back on track, you're back again."

"Alex…" Not-Kara begins, mournfully. "Why are you saying all this? This isn't…I thought you wanted me."

"I wanted Kara!" you explode, and her doppelganger staggers backwards. "And I'm sorry for that! I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you needed – that I was such a bitch that I used you to be the person I thought was unattainable. But that's where we're at. I hurt you. I used you. So _why are you here_?"

She doesn't say anything.

There's something in her eyes. Something you should have recognised the moment you saw her. 

Not-Kara never looked at you with this much pain.

…You've been tricked.

You gasp and stagger backwards. 

" _Kara_?"

Her eyes flicker away from yours, ashamed, and there's a rushing of air at your window. 

There's another Kara standing in your apartment, now, wearing the same dark uniform. Identical.

"She had to know for sure," the Kara in the window says. "She couldn't leave you alone. That's why she's here."

Kara spins around. "You told me I could have ten minutes alone with her! You promised you wouldn't fight me this time."

The new arrival approaches and moves a hand to tug slightly at the arm of the other's uniform. "And you told me you were going as _yourself_ , not dressed up as me." She snorts. "But I guess I should've expected tricks and lies from you; you never could tell Alex the truth, after all."

Your eyes flick between the two of them as they circle one another, voices climbing steadily.

"Oh, get off your high horse! You admitted it yourself, you knew from the start you were taking advantage of her!" Kara snaps, eyes flashing dangerously.

"We both love her!" Not-Kara counters, and that's too much for you to hear, now or at any time. "And yeah, I'm selfish enough to go after what I wanted. But that doesn't mean I wanted to hurt her, unlike you."

Kara growls and shoves Not-Kara back. "Keeping my distance was to help her! Her whole life was about me, I just wanted her to be able to have relationships with someone else! Wanted her to be happy, to find a wife who deserved her." Her expression darkens. "And you ruined that! Like you ruin _everything_!"

A small part of you wonders if your neighbours think someone's having a shouting match with themselves in your apartment. Wonders if they're calling the police or the landlord. But the rest of you is still frozen in place. 

For the first time in weeks, you want to drink. You want your lips to burn and your thoughts to fuzz into blissful nothingness. Or maybe you just want Kara. You're not sure if that burning oblivion would be better coming from bourbon or from her.

"I made you admit the feelings you've been hiding since college! I did you a _favor_ , you ungrateful little—"

One of them punches the other.

You've lost track of who's who, their uniforms and their rage a mirror image of one another, your thoughts a blurred mess.

There's a moment of silence, and the one who's been punched smirks, slow and predatory, and oh, that's definitely Not-Kara; you've seen that smirk before. When she'd arrive after a long day, or pull out a pair of handcuffs, or pin you down. It sends a shiver down your spine.

"I've been waiting all day for you to do that." 

She swings faster than you can see. But you know she did it, because Kara is suddenly gone, and the whole side of your apartment has been torn out from the impact of a Kryptonian being knocked through it, cold air whipping through it and brickwork scattering like it's nothing.

"Stay here," she says, flatly. "Your sister and I need to have a _talk_."

She takes off.

You're left standing there in silence for a few minutes, apartment and existence torn open in a way that borders on the metaphorical. In the distance, you see bright, burning blue flashes of heat vision, lighting up the night sky.

You wrench the door open. And you run after them.


End file.
